


In/experience

by Tipsy_Kitty



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Community: kink_bingo, Community: trope_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipsy_Kitty/pseuds/Tipsy_Kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cell is tiny even for one person, but Jensen is glad to have some company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In/experience

**Author's Note:**

> Written to cross off the **slavefic** square on my [trope-bingo ](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/)card and the **possession/marking** square for [kink-bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/).

“You’re doubling up, slave,” the guard says as he opens Jensen’s cell and ushers in a tall, skinny kid with longish hair and frightened eyes. “He’s certified, so hand’s off.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jensen says as the guard locks the door and heads back down the corridor. He isn’t surprised to be getting a roommate; the slave market was gearing up for the annual Summer Auction, and all sales had been put on hold for the next few weeks.

The new guy presses back against the bars and studies his toes. _Great,_ Jensen thinks. _A newbie_.

The cell was tiny even for one person, with only a small pallet on one side and a toilet on the other, but Jensen is honestly a little glad to have some company.

“Sit,” he tells the kid. “Promise, I don’t bite.”

The boy sits across from him and wipes his sweaty palms on his knees over and over, trying futilely to tug his white slave shorts down lower on his thighs.

“What’s certified?” he whispers finally, after almost an hour had passed in silence.

“Means you’re a virgin,” Jensen says.

The boy turns white and doesn’t speak for the rest of the day.

*

It isn’t so bad at the auction house. Nobody wants to risk bringing down the value of the slaves, so they’re left alone and unharmed for the most part. Jensen’s been in the system for a few years now, has already had three different owners and he’s only 22, so what seems to Jared like an endless stretch of boredom laced with terror is practically a vacation for Jensen.

“Are they gonna change my name?” Jared wonders one morning as they share a small loaf of bread and a green apple for breakfast.  Jared’s full of questions that he doesn’t really want to know the answers to, questions Jensen doesn’t want to answer. Sometimes Jensen can see Jared almost physically trying to restrain himself by sitting on his hands or biting his lower lip, but then the questions come bubbling out anyway.

“Probably not? I’d imagine it’s kind of a hassle to get you to remember a new name.”

“But it happens?”

Jensen sighs. _Everything_ happens, to somebody. His second owner had been pretty decent, but she had a son who visited each summer with a slight female slave who crawled around on a leash and answered to Precious.

He doesn’t tell Jared that. Can’t bear to see the hopeful look in Jared’s eyes replaced with horror.

*  
“Maybe we’ll both get sold to the same person,” Jared says, getting that faraway look in his eyes that makes Jensen want to shield him from everything to come. 

Jensen rolls over so they’re facing each other, noses almost touching, thin blanket pulled over their heads.  

“Maybe a little old lady, who likes to bake pies and just wants a couple of guys around to like, lift heavy bags of flour or change light bulbs or something. And she could—”

Jensen bridges the distance and kisses the words away as they leave Jared’s mouth, letting the fairy tale dissipate around them like a fog.

“ _This_ is real,” Jensen says, and Jared hums into his mouth.

*  
“Is it going to hurt?” Jared asks. 

_Probably_ , Jensen thinks. “Is what going to hurt?”

“The tattoo,” Jared says, running his finger along the barcode on Jensen’s neck. It’s their last night together before the auction and Jensen kind of hates Jared for making him feel again. He’d thought his heart was dead. 

“It’s not so bad,” he says. 

“It’s going to be there for life. I’ll never be free again.”

Jared’s starting to shake, and Jensen pulls him closer, pets his hair. There are no words to make it better. Jensen holds Jared for a long time, until the shaking stops, until he thinks Jared might almost be asleep.

“I want you to do it first,” Jared says quietly.

“Do what?” 

“Mark me.” Jared rolls over and presses his back against Jensen’s chest. “Where they’re going to put the tattoo.”

“Here?” Jensen whispers as he kisses Jared’s neck.

“Yeah, there,” Jared sighs. “I wanna feel it.”

“It won’t last, not like the ink will.”

“But I’ll know it’s there, I’ll always know you were there first.”

Jensen teases and worries at Jared’s neck while his left hand moves down over Jared’s naked chest to cup the growing bulge in his shorts.

“Like that, like that,” Jared murmurs, rocking against Jensen. They rub their bodies together and Jensen strokes at Jared through the cloth, nipping and biting at Jared hard enough to bruise but not to break the skin.

They come like that. Jared is crying Jensen’s name, but Jensen just feels like crying.


End file.
